A Fasting of Hands
by CeffylGwyn
Summary: Long ago after the fall of the Roman Emperor, before the Isles came to be as we know it, there was a Dark Age. Spanning over 500 years it saw the blood of thousands stain the earth as they fought for control of the land. It was a time of warfare and death, and a time when magic in the Isles, reigned supreme. Heavy AU.
1. Beginning

**A/N:** I've had this idea for a very very long time. I began scribbling notes down for it almost exactly a year ago from today, so I thought it fitting that today would be the day that I let it loose upon the world. If you've read any of my other work you'll know that I've always loved bending stories to suit a new narrative that might only have glimmers of the original tale, rather than mirroring it completely. I always try to hold back from pulling too far away from the source material, and I hope you will see it shine through now and again.

While this story might revolve around my all time OTP, there will be others that intertwine with theirs. Who knows what will happen?

If you like this start, please let me know, I thought it time to get this out there and give it a shot. Let's see if it holds fast shall we?

* * *

_Long ago after the fall of the Roman Emperor, before the Isles came to be as we know it, there was a Dark Age. Spanning over 500 years it saw the blood of thousands stain the earth as they fought for control of the land. It was a time of warfare and death, and a time when magic in the Isles, reigned supreme._

…)O(...

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... _

_Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... _

_And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ...  
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ..._

…)O(...

The small village burned.

Screams rang through the night sky as thatched cottages burst into flames. Britons ran from their homes and fields, ducking for cover as the Roman legion cut them down.

From the trees, blue painted warriors watched the scene unfold.

Frederick sucked cold air through his teeth and let out his held breath in a foggy mist. "Not looking good Georgie."

His twin shook his head, not tearing his eyes from the scene in front of them. "No it doesn't. Not good at all."

The rest of the Druí moved about anxiously beside the pair, shifting in their places. An owl screeched and the pair of hazel eyes turned to see their youngest brother creep up beside them.

"The Merlin says to take your men around the outside and flank them, we've got to be in and out quickly. There are reports of Roman mages tailing the last of the legion." Ron hissed quietly, shoving his long red hair back out of his eyes.

Fred nodded, raising his hands to his lips and letting out a warbling bird call. As one, the Druí drew their wands and began to surge through the darkness towards the flames that rose from the small town, and those that fled from the jaws of death.

…)O(...

Hermione had never realised how hard it was to run in a long skirt until that night. Adding a small, heavy baby to the mix only made it worse. She ran even though her lungs burned, only terror and the adrenaline pumping through her blood kept her moving.

_Through the door, down the street, over the fence, past the field, over the log, into the forest. _

_Through the door, down the street, over the fence, past the field, over the log, into the forest. _

She repeated her uncle's instructions to herself in her head. She repeated them as she fled the burning building, as she sidestepped the corpse of the farmer who lived next door, as she caught the eye of the legionnaire pulling his spear from her mothers breast.

She repeated them as she screamed her mother's name and turned, running as fast as she could with baby Rionnach slung across her chest. Hermione repeated them as she grabbed the wooden fence and hauled herself over it, ignoring the splinters and just continuing to run.

_Past the field, over the log, into the forest._

Her heart pounded in her throat, as her legs pounded over grass and stone. Hermione risked a glance over her shoulder and half sobbed in terror. They were coming after her. If it were somehow possible, she ran faster. The trees were just ahead. She could hear the clatter of hooves behind her, feel their closeness. Rionnach was wailing against her chest.

_Over the log, into the forest._

Hermione leapt over the log, legs outstretched. She heard a tear as her skirt became caught and tore, causing her to lose balance and stumble.

With a shriek, Hermione fell, quickly cradling Rionnach as she hit her head and skidded and then rolled down the grassy slope. Wobbling, she tried to rise, but fell, and they were upon her. Hands grabbing, pulling, trying to take the child from her.

"Rion, Rionnach. No don't take him-"

Tears streamed down her face, and Hermione felt something growing inside her, taking over the fear, as the legionnaire before her readied his sword. It bubbled and frothed and grew, and with a scream of anger, it burst from her, and the air around her exploded in blue.

…)O(...

Fred and his brothers slipped down the embankment and towards the flames, their kinsmen close behind. They descended on the legion and spells began to fly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a young woman being chased on horseback, and quickly, he whistled for George. In tandem, they apparated after them to the top of the hill.

The soldier drew his sword and Fred readied a spell when the woman screamed and everything exploded in blue.

"Fred, look out!" George quickly grabbed his older twin and pulled them both down behind the massive log, out of the range of the blue flames that licked at them hungrily.

As soon as it came, it was gone.

Hearts pounding, the two men looked at each other. Panting, they cautiously peered over the log, but at the bottom of the hill were soldiers no longer, only an unconscious young woman, with a child just beyond her arms.

"Bloody hell." Georges whistled through his teeth.

"We need to take her back, the Merlin will want to hear of this." Fred murmured, his eyebrows furrowed into a frown.

George grabbed a hold of his twin's arm as he went to move over the log "Are you sure we should go down there? What she did to them she could quite easily do to us."

"Gred, that was raw, unchecked power." Fred said, removing the other redhead's hand from its grasp. "I would bet you a dozen sickles she wouldn't know how to do that again if she tried. We need to get her out of here. You heard Ron, Roman mages and all that; now go and gather the others and let's get out of here."

George's lips settled into a thin line, but he nodded resolutely, he always somehow ended up going along with his brothers plans, why change now. "Alright. I'll see you back at Torc."

With that, he turned his wand to his throat and let out a bird call that amplified down into the village. With another concerned look at his brother, George whirled and disapperated into thin air.

Fred turned and rolled over the log, landing gently in a crouching position. Slowly, and with great care, he made his way down to the woman at the bottom of the hill. For all he'd told his brother it'd be fine, he didn't want to take any chances.

The baby was crying, and lay still swaddled, a little ways away from the woman. Gently, the redhead picked up the child and soothed its cries to tiny hiccups. "Shhhh, there now, nice and quiet or you'll make it hard for us to get out of here." Mercifully, the baby went to sleep, and Fred knelt down next to the woman, checking her wrist for a pulse. He thought he could feel it, faintly. Gently, he brushed her curly hair away from her face, and felt at the side of her throat. It was there, almost a little stronger. Dark eyelashes flickered a little and Fred could have sworn she was looking at him. "Don't worry lady, I'm going to get you out of here."

With some effort, he scooped her torso up and concentrated on the fort and in a flash, they were gone.

The village was quieter now. Fires still raged and the scent of iron and death still hung in the air, but no life stirred. Paths lay littered with the dead, Britons, and Legionnaires both silent, only the gentle flapping of the flags as the village settled into its own dust and blood.

…)O(...

As Fred landed in the field, the woman's eyes flashed open for just a moment before she leaned to the side and vomited, before going limp in his arms once more.

Fred grimaced. "Charming." quickly he looked down at the sleeping child and frowned. "Don't you even think about it." Luckily, the baby did not even awake and he breathed a sigh of relief.

With skill borne of long years of practice, he laid the brunette woman on the ground and pulled his wand out, gently levitating her limp form into the air as he stood up. Slowly, Fred began to walk up past the massive lake to the hill fort that rose out of the fog that shrouded it. All around him, more of his people began to appear, some by themselves, and others doing just as he was with the wounded.

The gates before him opened, and men and women streamed out, healers quickly running to check those injured.

Fred smiled down at the sleeping child. "Welcome to Torc, friend. Last great home of the Druí."

* * *

**A/N:** _Druí_ \- Druids/sorcerers, _Torc_ \- boar


	2. Awaken

A young man with unruly black hair and mildly shabby clothes - free from blue paint - sat with his legs hanging over the fort wall and watched as the Druí brought in their latest rescue. It seemed recently, that whenever they ventured forth to steer the last of the Roman legions from the Isles, they would come back with strays, Britons that they would heal, and send back on their way, their minds obliviated and free from any memory.

Not that he was really complaining, that was where they found him after all, and freed him.

Harry sighed, that life felt so far behind him now. He could feel the magic that lay under the skin of his fingers, rippling in a way he hadn't realised was possible before. That he hadn't realised existed at all.

A horn called from somewhere in the ramparts above him and at the very edges of the grounds appearing out of the fog, Harry could see the war band returning. Amongst the plue painted warlocks and witches were Britons, some limping along and others being levitating gently across the hills and furrows; just like he had been not long ago.

"Harry, they're back! Are you coming down or what?"

The dark haired man swivelled to see the young red haired woman he had first met several week ago. "I'll be down in a second Ginerva!" He called back and quickly scrambled over stone and wood before landing gently on his feet in front of her.

The red head grinned at him. "We really have to get you on a broom, you're going to be excellent at flying I can tell. I have a knack for knowing these things you know." Her eyes drifted up to the scar partially hidden by his mop of hair before snapping back to his eyes once more. "Come on. Let's see what news they've brought back this time!" With a whirl of glimmering red hair she took off down the street and he after her.

Harry had to admit, running like this, twisting and turning, jumping over barrels and speeding past onlookers was exhilarating. It was freer than he had ever felt. Everything since coming to Torc was breathing a new life into him and he was shedding the skin he'd been forced to wear his entire life.

The pair skidded to a halt outside the main hall where the returning war party was congregating and the sick and injured were being seen to by healers; slowly being taken away. A slightly plump young wizard was hurrying past until like lightning Ginerva's hand struck out and grabbed him, pulling the young man towards them with a squeak.

"So what have we got Neville?" She whispered, eyes narrowing as she studied the milling people.

"Why do you always have to do that Ginerva. Y'know I don't like it when you grab me like that." Neville grumbled with a frown before he noticed Harry, his eyes flicking immediately up to his scar and widening. "H-h-h-h—"

Ginerva sighed "Oh right, yes, Neville this is Harry, Harry this is Neville. Harry, Neville's one of our clanless like youl. Neville's only just come to Torc with his gran to be sorted, so he'll be done with you. Harry's alright Neville, he's not going to eat you." The young witch took a deep breath before continuing. "Now Neville, if we could get back to the issue at hand. Did they find anything? Have you seen my brothers?"

His eyes still anxiously flickering to Harry, the other young wizard shook his head. "N-no. No sign, but the legion wasn't flanked as they thought either so they think the intel might have been dirty. And I saw Ron a minute ago, he's gone off to find Percival. I haven't seen the twins yet though-"

With an almighty crack a pair of red haired twins apparated directly behind Neville who let out a very high pitched shriek.

"We heard our names-"

"So we thought we'd come and see-"

"What you were talking about."

"Hiya Harry!"

The young dark haired man couldn't help but grin at the pair. "Hi Fred, George." He still couldn't tell who was who, but then Ron had mentioned that their own mother sometimes couldn't tell them apart.

Neville edged away from them slowly. "I b-better be going." He said, and suddenly took off back through the milling people. The four watched him disappear into the crowd with half smiles. Night was drawing a cloak about them now and around the buildings, tiny lanterns began to glow with light.

"You know I think we scare him Gred."

"I think we do too Forge."

"Wouldn't have any idea why."

"Haven't the foggiest."

Ginerva rolled her eyes. "They turned him into a toad as a joke when he first came. Something about initiating the newbies." She muttered to Harry. "Minerva banned them from the warband for a week but he's still terrified of them."

"And so he should be!"

"We are rather terrifying"

"That's because we're so tough Gred"

"And don't forget manly!"

"Vicious-"

"And deadly."

"The most powerful twins on the Isle." They finished smugly together.

Ginerva's eyebrows had almost reached her hairline and she shook her head with an eye roll that could have turned the heavens. "You two are in a good mood. Are we almost there then?" Ginerva's eyes were shining with excitement and yet, Harry still hadn't a clue about half of what they were talking about. Something about the legion leaving the Isle.

One of the twins - Fred, no maybe it was George - smiled smugly. "We destroyed the last of the fourth legion in the South of Medina. They decided to sack a village on their way out so we decided to sack them." His eyes were glinting in a way that was deadly and Harry shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Perhaps their joking hadn't really been joking.

"We found another clanless. A witch this time." The other twin was frowning with something more akin to concern. His eyes flicked over at his brother who seemed to be ignoring him. "She destroyed three soldiers; reduced them to ash in a matter of seconds."

"And then passed out and only woke up to vomit over my shoulder before carking it once more George, it's fine." The one who was obviously Fred waved his hand. "The Merlin will make sure she's under control"

"Reduced to ash?" Harry nearly turned green. "That's horrible."

Fred laughed. "Well it's not quite like setting a coil of black adders on your extended family, but it's pretty close."

The tall redhead winked at him and Harry felt his face grow hot. "I didn't think anyone knew about that." He muttered darkly.

Ginerva placed a comforting hand on Harry's arm. "Don't worry, they won't go spreading it around." She turned threatening eyes on her older brothers. "Will they?"

"Absolutely not-"

"Wouldn't dream of it!"

"Besides, Ginerva would hex us into next week-"

"If we even thought about it-"

"We think she's got a bit of a soft spot for you!" They finished in unison and disapparated just as the redhead witch pulled out her wand, fuming.

Harry choked back a cough of laughter that was somewhat mixed with surprise as the witch put away her wand.

"Don't listen to them Harry." She said haughtily with a flick of her hair. "They're so full of themselves there's not much else that can fit in their heads. Now c'mon, they'll be serving supper in the great hall now that the war band's back. Don't want to miss dinner!"

If Harry had been more astute he might have noticed the flush that rose up the base of the red head's neck and into her cheeks as they set off for dinner. But then, Harry never really had been particularly astute.

…)O(...

_It was almost like floating in a void. A black river of nothingness that consumed all and everything; and Hermione was right in the middle of it. It was peaceful and for the first time in a long time, she felt peaceful. Without a worry or a care._

_She didn't know how long she'd been floating there. Years? Hours? There was no time wherever she was, there was only emptiness._

_A low hum began to echo through her, it buzzed, lower than she could hear and just out of reach of her ears so she couldn't make out what the sound was. Slowly, the hum became a whisper and then it became word._

"_Awaken."_

Hermione's eyes flashed open and the world span. She closed them almost immediately, blinking out the soft candlelight, before opening then once more. She was in a bed. It was dark. The coverings were scratchy and there beside her bed sat a very old woman, her grey hair coiled up into a knot at the top of her head; and the woman was watching her.

_Rionnach._

She began to panic, struggling in her sheets, but the woman tutted at her.

"Now there will be none of that." Her accent was from the North, a brogue that gargled as she spoke. "He's on your left, see, perfectly safe and sound girlie, so why don't you settle down and have a chat with me."

Hermione's head whipped to her left and so it was, there was the little boy sleeping as soundly as a lamb. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned her head back to face the old woman, giving a slow nod of her head.

The old woman made a noise that could have been something that sounded like approval, had it not come from the mouth of a Northerner. "Good. Now, do you remember what happened?"

"I…" her voice sounded croaky. What had happened? Running, falling. Soldiers, blue, death, "I…I think I killed them. Didn't I?"

The old woman's face cracked them and she smiled softly at the younger woman. "Yes…yes you did. Took quite a bit out of you too I must say, but then, you've never really used that much magic before have you?"

Hermione's eyes were prickling and she could feel tears threatening to escape. "No – I didn't know that was what it was – I swear it's been only small things. I'm sure I can stop it happening-"

"Oh there'll be no stopping now dearie, you've let the cat out of the bag, so to speak." The old woman chuckled, "Luckily the twins found you and brought you back here where you can learn to control and direct your abilities rather than continue to mask them."

Hermione's eyes had grown to orbs. "W-where am I?" she whispered, "And who are you?"

The old woman's eyes twinkled. "I am Minerva, first hand to the Merlin, and you my dear are in Torc, seat of the Druí and home to witches and warlocks, all people who are like you."

"T-torc?"

"It's a place for people like you to learn and live in safety, where you can be free from persecution by muggles - non magic folk" the old witch clarified, "And you can finally have a normal life."

Hermione was starting to come to, she moved to sit up a little in her chair, pushing herself up against the back of the bed. She could see other beds around her, cloaked people moving around sleeping figures. Hermione choked back tears and let a rattling breath from her chest. She had thought they all must have died, her mother had, surely the others had too. "What about the others?"

Minerva inclined her head. "The others are all muggles, those we have managed to save from your village will be healed and have the memories of this place taken from them and then they will be returned to the place we rescued them." She pursed her lips and looked sternly at the young woman. "If you decided to stay, you would become as if you were one of the fallen from your village. Buried and mourned, only a memory."

Hermione could hear her mother's screams echoing through her soul. "And if I said no - that I didn't want to stay here? What then?"

"Then you will have your memory wiped as well and be returned with your kinsmen to whatever life you were living before." Minerva said softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

Hermione took a deep breath. There was so much happening and so much to take in. On one hand she just wanted to fall asleep now and wake up from the nightmare that her life had so quickly become, but on the other, she was curious. "Could you...show me some magic?" It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

The old witch thought for a moment, before pulling a stick from her forest green cloak. It was smooth and solid, with little knobs at the thickest point. With a flick of her wrist, tiny delicate butterflies erupted from the tip and fluttered around Hermione's head before dissolving into the air and disappearing.

It was the most beautiful thing Hermione had ever seen.

"Thank you." She said quietly, "May I think about it?"

Minerva smiled broadly "Of course, take your time there is no rush. Perhaps tomorrow you will feel a little better, and would like to look around, but for now you should rest." There was movement out of the corner of her eye and Hermione looked up to see a young man with red hair that stirred a memory in her draw closer. "Ah, Fredrick."

"Eve'nin Minerva, just thought I'd come and see how the patient was going." a bright grin turned and flashed at the young brunette woman, "And look ho! The Blue Lady is awake!"

"H-hello." Hermione blinked and she look looked down at her hands.

"I'll be back in the morning, goodnight." the old witch said, getting to her feet and making way for the young man, Minerva turned to him. "And don't you keep her up too long, she needs her rest!"

The redhead saluted lazily. "Yes ma'am."

Minerva hurrumped but Hermione could have sworn she saw the corner of the old witch's mouth twitch as she swirled out the door.

With a sigh, the redhead - Frederick - Minerva had called him, sat down on the chair and relaxed back.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Hermione ventured.

"Not really, I was simply curious to see if you were feeling alright after everything that happened." Fredrick smiled at her, hazel eyes dark and considerate. "Well, as good as can be considering the circumstances."

Hermione's forehead ached and she reached up to rub it absentmindedly as she stared at the young man, a slight frown marring her face. "Yes. I think...I think I am as good as can be thank you...Fredrick." An awkward silence drifted between them and Hermione could feel her eyelids drooping. "I'm sorry I- It's all a bit too much"

"No no - it's quite alright. I'll come back another time when you're more up for visitors. They've probably given you one of their heavy duty healing potions. Those will knock you a new one." Fredrick smiled, rubbing the back of his neck as he got to his feet. "Just before I go: I don't suppose you have a name do you? Only, can't keep calling you the Blue Lady see."

The ghost of what could have been a smile on a less serious face flashed across her eyes.

"Hermione. My name is Hermione."

* * *

**A/N:** Hello everyone and thank you for all your support last chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one and I look forward to reading your reviews :)


End file.
